


Home Sweet Home

by VanishedElf



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:19:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4514697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanishedElf/pseuds/VanishedElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim has taught Kon so much since his arrival in the Titans. What other lessons might need giving?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Sweet Home

Note: AU where Tim and Kon are both 18 when Kon joins the Titans (or the clone equivalent of 18, hah). 

They had become friends in the way that friendship often arises. Once there was an absence and then there wasn't. Once there was little knowing of that particular person, and then, that person appeared, new and curious, as though having been placed there for a particular purpose. For Tim, the newcomer's purpose was as straightforward as any other—to contribute to the team in the best way possible. For Kon, the meaning behind his arrival, or anything at all, for that matter, was much less scripted, but he did his best to conceal his bewilderment behind a pretence of irritation whenever others were around. It was a difficult facade to maintain.

Tim could still remember the first night Kon stayed at his apartment. Until Kon's room was set up in the tower, it had been suggested that he put up in Tim's quarters. At the time Tim was deeply engrossed in a request sent over by Bruce for an analysis of trends in Gotham's paint sales. As usual, the request came with no explanation, and as usual, Tim answered the call without delay. He sat in his studio, bent over the keys, sipping cold water and massaging his temples. It had been three hours and he still hadn't made any progress.  

He blamed it on the newcomer. Tim was no novice to strangers—playing understudy to the Justice League's unprofessed leader required a certain worldliness uncommon to others his age—but still, even for him, this one was a little _unusual._ As spacious and all-inclusive as Tim's quarters were, Kon's presence pervaded every room like smoke from a freshly blown volcano.

The clone, or Kryptonian, or... Tim decided to go with 'boy', as it seemed the least assuming, had said very little upon his arrival. He brought nothing, explaining awkwardly that, "he'd never had a home before." Tim shook his hand and offered him free reign of the kitchen. Kon said he didn't feel much like eating. Tim floundered momentarily before Kon relieved him, skulking out onto the balcony like a spurned wolf. Tim left him there, arms crossed, staring at nothing in particular, so obviously unhappy that it made Tim uncomfortable to think of it even now.

Something about the newcomer's darkness disturbed him. What was Kon thinking? What was it like to be a clone? Did he know how to feel sadness? What about happiness? It was certainly a challenge to imagine a smile stretching across that sour face...

But Tim did see him smile, and many times over. It took a while, but once unearthed, Kon's joy seemed to know no bounds. Tim subtly taught him the art of teasing. It was a relief to finally be able to joke with him without fearing being thrown through a window. Two months passed, and, feeling much less dainty about his friend's feelings, Tim chanced experimenting with the nickname, "clone boy." What resulted was five straight minutes of boisterous nuggying. While Tim's hair was irrevocably messed afterwards, Kon's smile had been well worth the price. What Tim had initially mistaken as a sour face was actually quite striking when arranged into the proper positions.

See, Superboy was undeniably handsome, with or without his glower, but Tim had always been one to look past the exterior. What mattered to him were a person's intentions. He was awed by calculation, strength and loyalty, and above all else, the nobility that came with knowing one's values. These were the reasons he admired Bruce so much. Kon seemed much the same, but there was something else. Kon brought something to the table that Tim was unfamiliar with or, perhaps more accurately, long-estranged from. Innocence.

Tim didn't realize how much he had begun to depend on Kon until it was too late. Somehow the newcomer had slipped past his hardest defences and they were best friends, hardly separable when they could afford the leisure. Kon, even though his own room was now established, often took to staying in Tim's quarters for what they both joked as being, "old times sake." They stayed up late eating junk food and playing video games. They had contests—who could think of the most things beginning with the letter _r_ , who was more flexible at doing the splits, who was daring enough to run past Cassie's room entirely naked...

All of it was new to Kon. Secretly, Tim felt much the same way. Unlike most boys, Tim had never really indulged in childhood recreation. He was ever the achiever, a young protégé, truly deserving of the title, 'Boy Wonder'. It was amazing to cast all of that aside for a moment. Besides. It was his duty to socialize this newcomer into the ways of the locals. That's what he told himself every time he shut his laptop and joined Kon out on the balcony, staring at the city together, observing whimsically all they had dedicated themselves to protecting.

The most wonderful thing about it was that nothing changed. The sledge of retribution that Tim feared was never levied. Years passed and he continued to spend the majority of his time attending to Titan duties. Better yet, the team's efficiency soared with Kon's contribution. They received numerous praises from the Justice League. Lives were saved, criminals were locked up, and all the while, Tim permitted himself the hallowed privilege of having a little bit of fun every now and then. He was learning a lot.

But some things he didn't have to learn. Like Bruce, he was versed in seeing patterns where others saw random dots. He knew how to make sense of chaos. He knew how to predict, and perhaps this was why he wasn't at all surprised by what happened when Kon came over one night after having dinner with Superman in Smallville.

"You look swanky," Kon remarked, alighting on Tim's balcony with a soft _tump._

"Thanks," Tim grunted, working to disentangle his bowtie from his collar. As it happened, he had also been supping with a mentor that evening, but he kept the details of the occasion to himself. As Kon didn't yet know Batman's true identity, saying that he had been dining at Wayne Manor was out of the question. "How was the man in blue?"

"Fine."

"Was it just you three?"

"No, there was a woman," Kon said indifferently, tossing his jacket over a chair. "Lois Lane."

"From the Daily Planet?"

Kon shrugged.

Tim sniffed. "I can smell you from here."

"I flew extra fast."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Kon said sulkily, retreating into the hallway. Tim heard the facet start to run in the bathtub. He followed his friend into the washroom and watched unabashedly as Kon stripped nude, sinking into the water like a dejected otter.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a bath, what does it look like?"

"But _why?_ "

"I want to play video games," Kon said simply, attempting a smile, "but it won't be a fair fight if you're distracted by how much I stink."

Tim acknowledged this point with a small nod. It was easier than admitting how much he actually enjoyed the smell of Kon's sweat.

"She seemed nice, you know. The two of them get along well."

Tim quickly registered that Kon was still talking about the reporter. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it on the door. "Even the big guys have to get their kicks, I guess."

"Their kicks."

The way Kon said it was clearly a statement, not a question. He leaned back in the tub and scowled at the ceiling.

Tim suspected he may eventually be required to ask Kon what was wrong, but there was still the chance to misdirect him with humour. He picked up a bottle, sat on the edge of the bath, and squirted soap all over Kon's chest. The bottle made a raucous noise somewhere between a chicken and a belch. "Did I forget to teach you how to clean yourself?"

Kon made no indication of having heard. He stared at the panels. His frown deepened. The soap oozed down his chest like a morbid hourglass counting down the seconds before an impending eruption.

"I'm sorry, man," Tim said quickly, reaching for a cloth.

Kon's hand moved faster than Tim could have anticipated. One moment it was in the water, floating like a drowsy porpoise, and then it was on top of his own. Tim didn't even have time to jump.

"What is it?" Tim asked uncertainly, watching the way Kon traced little watery circles on the top of his hand. He didn't dare move, for fear of scaring Kon away... or making him stop.

"I have no idea what it's like."

Tim tilted his head. "What what's like?"

"I've learned how to control my heat vision. I can fly for miles and I could walk Smallville's streets with my eyes shut. But seeing them together made me realize..." Kon dropped his gaze. "There are still so many things I don't get."

Neither of them said anything. Suddenly it seemed like they had both known, all along, that this was bound to happen. It had only ever been a matter of when, how, and where. Tim found himself lifting Kon's hand into his lap, reaching forward to massage his forearm with two hands. Kon gripped Tim's inner thigh and Tim leaned over, precariously, his mouth dropping open slightly, like a question waiting to be answered.

Kon pushed up from the sides of the tub and kissed him. They lingered, Kon gently chewing Tim's lower lip, Tim poised on the side of the bathtub like a crane, both of them beginning to lose their breath. After a moment Tim pulled away.

"I'm sorry," Kon mumbled.

"Kon, I..."

Kon looked away. "Just forget it."

"It's not that." Tim felt himself blushing. He couldn't bring himself to admit his own insecurity, not when Kon so clearly needed him to be strong. He squared his shoulders, took Kon's hand and pulled him to his feet. "Come to my bedroom."

They made their way down the hallway, wandering into Tim's bedroom with forced nonchalance. Tim had seen Kon naked several times before but never with such an overtly sexual undertone. It was only when he bid Kon sit on his bed that he allowed himself to take in the boy in his full capacity.

Kon lay back on his forearms, looking up at Tim through thick black eyelashes. His dark hair cast water drops down his face and back, making him seem like a Grecian god who had just emerged from a stony fountain. Tim wondered how the colour blue could exude such heat, for Kon's eyes were simmering like liquid iron.

Just like that all of Tim's fears fell away. All he knew was what he wanted. He wanted to know Kon like he had never known anybody before. Quickly stripping off his slacks and shirt, he revealed his own slender build to the moonlight and Kon reached forward, running his fingertips down Tim's stomach.

"You're beautiful."

Tim blushed once again. He was glad the room was dark. He crawled onto the bed and lowered himself onto Kon's body. The instant their skin made contact, he heard Kon inhale sharply. "Tim!"

They wallowed in one another, rolling and turning and rubbing, their kisses leaving little room for breathing, until Tim felt himself twitch dangerously against Kon's thigh. He pushed Kon down and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"What's wrong?"

"Just need a minute."

The corner of Kon's mouth quirked upwards in understanding, but his response was anything but sympathetic. He reached forward and grabbed Tim's cock, stroking him with firm, steady movements. Tim moaned crookedly as he came in Kon's hand. The second he did the smile disappeared from Kon's face, replaced by a look of rapt fascination.

For months Tim had hoped for something like this to happen; fooling around with his sexy friend, exploring each other's bodies the same way they had explored each other's minds. He felt little shame about what had happened, and even if he did, it certainly wasn't enough to drive him this far over the edge. As it stood he was utterly baffled by the tears spouting from his own eyes.

Kon seemed to understand it more than him. He wiped his hand on the sheets and took Tim into his arms, holding him against his damp body. Tim wept until there was nothing left. As his breath steadied, his senses returned and he became aware once more of Kon's erection against his stomach. He wiped his nose.

"Are you okay?"

Tim nodded. Without a word he rolled Kon onto his back and began trailing wet kisses down his chest. Kon's hands were still on Tim's shoulders, his head lifted, examining Tim fretfully, but the moment Tim's mouth found his cock he dropped backwards and gripped the mattress instead.

Tim ran his tongue in smooth circles, savouring the manifold textures Kon's body had to offer. Spurred on by Kon's spasming pelvis, he took Kon's cock deep. He was amazed at Kon's stamina. Even after coming once, Tim felt that he would have been exploding all over the place by this point had he been in Kon's shoes. He could already feel himself growing hard as he worked the clone boy's cock like a practised sculptor.

Kon was panting, loud and harsh. He gripped a handful of Tim's hair and yanked his head to the side so he could watch. Any other time the gesture might have seemed disrespectful, but at the moment Tim found it maddeningly erotic. He knew how much Kon wanted to understand. The clone boy was curious.

Suddenly Tim stopped. He looked up and met Kon's eyes, which were crystal blue in a lone moonbeam. "I want you."

"You have me."

Tim chuckled softly. "You know what I mean."

Kon swallowed. "I don't know how long I'll be able to last."

"I don't care."

Kon smiled conspiratorially. He propped himself up on an elbow and they traded places, Tim on his back this time. Kon's hand wandered to Tim's cock and Tim grabbed his wrist, shaking his head.

Kon nodded, trailing his hand even lower. Somehow, without Tim noticing, Kon had scooped up a bit of Tim's cum from his own stomach, so when his fingers met with Tim's opening they were wonderfully slippery. For being a clone, Kon sure had some wicked instincts. Tim was already relaxed from his first orgasm and it wasn't long before Kon was working him with two fingers, watching with the same avid curiosity as Tim writhed, taking his breath in sharp little gasps.

"I'm ready," he said suddenly, gripping Kon's forearm like a gymnastics bar.

Kon crawled on top and angled himself into Tim with one hand. Tim felt Kon's girth, which was significantly more substantial than his fingers, slide into him with impressive leisure. Tim could tell that Kon was holding back. A vein had appeared across Kon's forehead, almost like a physical manifestation of his restraint. Tim had had enough. He was ready to be fucked, and he wanted to be fucked now.

He grabbed Superboy's ass and pulled him all the way inside him. Kon inhaled sharply, gritting his teeth like a wounded animal. He began pumping slowly, in steady thrusts, each one accompanied by a deep, pained moan. Tim wanted to make Kon hurt harder. He wanted him to bleed until they died together, erupting into a thousand of shards of broken glass. He arched his back, pushing his chest into Kon, revelling in the way the clone's skin brushed against his nipples.

Kon's thrusts became quicker and shorter. He leaned forward and gripped Tim's hair with one hand, bracing himself against the bed with the other. Tim's eyes rolled back in his head.

"K-Kon, I'm going to—"

Just then Kon's mouth dropped open and he grabbed Tim's hips, drawing them up into his lap. Tim felt himself coming, but it was different this time. Delicious aches pulsed up his ass all the way into his spine. He hardly noticed the cum spurting out his cock all over his own chest.

Kon seemed to come for an entire minute. Perhaps it was a Kryptonian thing. He moved Tim's ass over his cock with both hands, his eyelashes fluttering like sooty moths. The muscles twitched in his neck. At last he staggered forwards, crashing on top of Tim like a fallen tree. Tim ran a hand up Kon's back, which was now slick with sweat.

"I lied."

Kon pushed himself up to look Tim in the face. "About what?"

"I love it." Tim sucked on his fingers. "I love the smell of your sweat."

"And apparently the taste, too."

"Mmm."

Kon stroked Tim's forehead. "I've never seen you like that before."

"Well, duh."

"Not like _that_." Kon paused. "I've never seen you cry before."

"Oh." Tim's expression became somewhat guarded. "Sorry."

"No. I just wanted to know why. Did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, no," Tim sighed, looking out the window. "You were ace, dude."

"Then what was it?"

"To be honest, I'm not really sure." Tim pulled a piece of hair off his tongue. "Probably just some memories."

"Memories?"

"From the past." Tim hesitated. "Sometimes I get jealous of you. For never having had a home. It might've made things easier."

"Well it's too late."

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"I have a home now." Kon dropped his gaze. "It's right here, with you."

 

**_FIN_ **


End file.
